


of loners and leaders

by intranecine



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ashe/F!Byleth, Canon-Typical Violence, Cunnilingus, Dubious Consent, F/M, Masturbation, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Time Skip, Power Dynamics, Pre-Time Skip, Somnophilia, Teacher-Student Relationship, Unresolved Sexual Tension, minor Felix Hugo Fraldarius/F!Byleth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:13:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28212975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intranecine/pseuds/intranecine
Summary: Their new professor is distracting. Ashe isn't sure how to cope.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 5
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> please mind the tags

Their new professor is distracting.

She’s young, for starters. Annette and Mercedes think she’s younger than Prince Dimitri. Sylvain disagrees; he thinks she’s older than all of them. When Ashe asks him why, Sylvain slings an arm around his shoulders and nods at their professor’s shapely backside. She’s not wearing her cloak today because it’s so hot, and her black undershirt leaves nothing to the imagination. When she calls on Dimitri, his entire face turns bright pink. The rest of them aren’t faring much better.

“Call it a man’s intuition,” says Sylvain, winking.

Ashe has no idea what that means, but nods anyway. It’s not like he doesn’t realize that their professor is stupidly hot—he just has his hands full with other stuff. Stuff like battle formations, the hotter climate, and the notable size difference between him and every other guy in class.

Not for the first time, Ashe stares at the back of their heads with a pang of envy.

He’s not adjusting well to student life. Everyone else seems to have caught on quickly, but Ashe still receives poor marks on his exams and forgets half the things they’ve learned. Tactician stuff just isn’t for him. And don’t even get him started on all the Crest talk.

He’s not as bitter about the nobility as some people are, and he has Lonato and Christophe to thank for that. Still, he’s not thrilled to field nosy questions about his lineage, or to have a room on the first floor. He’d only learned just last week that theirs was the unofficial “peasant wing” and nobody had thought to tell them.

The only nice thing about his room is its proximity to their professor’s. For some reason they’ve set her up in the boys’ dorm, right next door to her students. Ashe passes by her room every morning on the way to breakfast. He generally doesn’t see her much outside of class. Mercedes observes that the professor’s like a wayward ghost, floating around the monastery with an empty look on her face. “Maybe there was something to the Ashen Demon title after all,” she tells Ashe when they’re on stable duty.

Ashe is too stressed to follow all the gossip about her. He doesn’t care much for her mysterious past or pretty face, because the entire monastery is full of such people. Most days, it’s all he can do to keep up.

The first time he sits up and takes notice is when the professor hand delivers a bundle of herbs to him.

“Wow,” Ashe says, eyes widening. “I can have this?”

The professor nods. There’s a shadow of a smile for a brief second, but it’s gone quickly.

“Thank you,” says Ashe quietly. His eyes prickle with heat.

“Ashe?” says the professor, brows knitting together.

“S-sorry, I just—”

Ashe scrubs a hand over his face. Of all the things to do in front of his professor, crying is likely the worst. _You must steel yourself_ , Lonato had told him right before Ashe had left. _No matter their social standing from birth, a true knight is dauntless in the face of adversity._

“It’s all right,” the professor says. She rests a hand on his shoulder, just a feather-light touch. “I’m having a hard time too.”

“You… you are?”

“Of course. I’m not used to any of this. I’ve never taught anyone before. Or,” says the professor, voice turning wry, “spent so much time around nobles.”

“That makes two of us,” Ashe laughs. Lonato doesn’t really count.

Professor Byleth laughs with him. It’s so delicate and sweet that he almost does a double take.

“Something wrong?” she asks.

“No, no. It’s just—this is the first time I’ve heard you laugh.”

“Ah.” The professor drops her gaze.

“I, um, I’m truly grateful, Professor. I’ll treasure these.”

She nods at him, but doesn’t smile again. “See you tomorrow,” she says, leaving him to stare after her in wonder.

-

Ashe curls up with a book outside sometimes. It’s force of habit, a holdover from his bookish childhood, although now the books are actual rentals and not stolen goods.

This month’s mission guts him when he first hears about it. The whispers about Lonato’s rebellion seem to follow him everywhere. He’s become a walking wanted poster of sorts, drawing suspicious and pitying looks left and right.

It’s exhausting. To cope, Ashe haunts the cathedral during the day, glowering at its beautiful ceilings and praying desperately to the goddess--any goddess. At night, his go-to refuge is a quiet alcove close to the sauna. He sits on the building’s stone steps and reads until his eyes start to blur. No one really visits the area, not even the night patrol, and the lights from inside the building make it easy to read. It’s not perfect, but it works well for now. At least he’s tiring himself out enough to fall into a dreamless sleep later.

Ashe doesn’t expect to see the professor on one of these nights.

She emerges from the sauna alone, steam rising from her bare shoulders and tendrils of dark hair spilling down her back. Her face glows faintly under the starshine. Ashe stares, gobsmacked. It’s the second time in two moons that he’s seen her in a private moment like this. But of course she’d be here—she doesn’t have curfew, and her room is right next door.

Ashe’s erstwhile thief instincts scream at him to  _ run NOW _ , but his legs stay locked underneath him. It’s only when a second figure emerges that he thinks to leave. Naked down to his hips, Byleth’s companion noses the shell of her ear and wraps slightly pink arms around her middle.

Ashe throws caution to the wind and scales the closest wall down to the floor below. He dashes to his room without even checking for guards in the area.

Once the door is shut and locked behind him, Ashe flings himself onto his bed and plunges a shaking hand into his smallclothes. He’s aching and hopelessly wet, so it only takes a little saliva to get things going. He pictures the moonlight shining off the professor’s collarbones, the flash of cleavage he’d seen, and the sound of her moaning as she fingered the spot between her legs.

He imagines himself in the other man’s place. The professor—no, Byleth—melts into his hands and lets him have every inch of her. He’s rough with her, just the way she likes it, fucking her against the sauna building for the rest of the night.

Ashe comes within minutes. Powerful waves of pleasure ebb through him and his hips spasm with the aftershocks. It’s the best orgasm he’s had since arriving at the monastery.

He falls asleep with one hand still wrapped around himself, guilty thoughts dissipating into darkness.

  
  


-

  
  


It’s a struggle to focus in class the next day.

Professor Byleth carries on like usual. She shows no signs of recognizing Ashe from last night. Guiltily, Ashe wonders if she’d overheard what he’d done in his room, too. He feels paranoid. It doesn’t help that, since he’s masturbated to her now, he keeps picturing last night every few seconds. Annette even has to snap fingers in front of his face when he misses his name being called.

After class, Annette and Mercedes ask him if he’s all right.

“Why don’t we eat lunch together?” says Annette, glancing at Mercedes for affirmation. “I hear they’re making sweet buns today. You like those, right, Ashe?”

“Maybe some other time,” Ashe declines. “But thank you.”

He doesn’t get very far before the professor catches up to him.

“Ashe?”

“Um, hello,” says Ashe, eyes darting to the side. “Did you need something, Professor?”

“Are you all right? You seemed distracted today.”

“I’m fine, really,” says Ashe, but Professor Byleth frowns, unconvinced.

“Is this about our mission?”

“No.” He hadn’t intended for that to come out so sharply. Both of them widen their eyes.

“Okay,” says Professor Byleth, searching his face for something. Some kind of tell. Ashe reddens under the scrutiny, thoughts already straying to last night. “I’m here if you need to talk.”

The ‘thank you’ dies on his tongue. Ashe nods once, stiffly, and makes his escape.

He retreats to his room and immediately jerks off, the professor’s worried expression seared onto the back of his eyelids.

  
  


-

  
  


After Lonato dies--no, after they’ve  _ killed  _ him--Ashe withdraws from everything. He stands listlessly in the middle of the cathedral and stares at swirling dust motes. He doesn’t take notes in class. He doesn’t even cook with the professor anymore.

His classmates show concern, but he doesn’t have the energy to thank them.

“I’m sorry, Professor,” he tells Professor Byleth when she finds him at the cathedral.

“Pull yourself together,” she says, not unkindly.

He stares at her, eyes burning. He’s jealous of the calm face she wears, and he hopes to Seiros that she isn’t younger than Prince Dimitri, because he’s nowhere near as mature as she is. He hopes it’s just a matter of time.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

“Is there anything I can do?”

This draws him up short. Ashe blinks slowly and turns her offer over in his mind. Coming from her, it’s probably not an empty platitude. But he also doesn’t know what she means.

“Tea would be nice,” says Ashe.

  
  


-

  
  


It’s the first time he’s had tea in the professor’s quarters. Her room is exactly what you’d expect: spare and clean, personal belongings tucked neatly away and out-of-sight. She does seem to have a rather large wardrobe full of clothes, but most students have never seen her wear them.

Ashe sneaks a look at what seems to be a maid uniform while the professor makes tea.

“Here. Careful, it’s hot,” she says, placing a cup on the tiny folding table she’s set up.

Ashe takes a small sip after waiting for a bit. His eyes widen. “Ah, I’ve had this kind before. I really like it.”

“I’ve noticed,” says the professor, smiling.

They sit in silence as they drink their tea for a while. It’s not uncomfortable or weird. The professor’s similar to Dedue in this regard; both are easy to just sit with.

“So how have you--”

“I have a question--”

They both stop.

“You first,” says Byleth, nodding at him. Ashe murmurs an apology and bows his head.

“Um, I’ve been wondering…”

“Yes?”

“About your family,” he clarifies. “B-but you don’t have to share if you’re not comfortable!”

Byleth sits back in her seat, looking thoughtful. “I don’t mind,” she says. “What would you like to know?”

“Well, your mother,” says Ashe hesitantly. “Is she…?”

“Gone? Yes. I’m told she died during childbirth.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” says Byleth quietly. “Why are you asking, though? Is this about… Lonato?”

“Sort of. I’m not a stranger to losing parents before. I never thought it would happen a second time,” he says, laughing hollowly. “I can’t imagine what my younger brother and sister are going through.”

“Do you want to be there with them?”

“Yes,” breathes Ashe, running his hands through his hair. “They must be so scared.”

“And how about you?”

“Me? I’m… I don’t know.” He pauses, staring at the dregs at the bottom of his tea cup. “I’m trying my best.”

Byleth nods. Ashe nearly knocks the table over when she reaches across to rest a hand over his. It’s meant to be a reassuring gesture, but it’s making a mess of Ashe’s thoughts.

When he finally dares to look up, he notices that the professor’s cheeks are pink too. She opens her mouth to say something but quickly snaps it shut again.

Ashe swallows.

He turns his hand over, palm facing up, and tentatively strokes a thumb over her knuckles.

Byleth jerks back. Her cup and saucer fall off the table with the movement. She curses and ducks under the table to collect the shattered pieces while Ashe sits frozen in place.

“I’m so, so sorry, Professor—” he stammers while she’s sweeping up the smaller shards.

“No need to apologize,” she says distantly.

“I didn’t mean to offend you, I swear,” panics Ashe, squatting down to finally help her.

“I wasn’t offended. Really,” she says, dumping everything into the waste bin. “But… maybe we should call it a night.”

“O-of course.”

She won’t meet his eyes as he leaves, cheeks still pink from earlier.

  
  


-

  
  


Ashe succumbs to his thoughts about the professor after that. He can’t hold back anymore. It gets to a point where he can’t fall asleep unless he jerks off to memories of Byleth, and even during class breaks he rushes back to his room to take care of his hard-on. It’s torture to squirm in his seat during class, especially because Professor Byleth treats him no differently than before. He’d almost prefer the cold shoulder to her gentle eyes on him when he answers something right.

He’s never wanted someone so badly before. Even though he’s had crushes, he’s never felt possessed by them, seized by lust and longing to an embarrassing degree.

It reaches the point where he’s perpetually turned on during the day. He rubs himself in class while keeping his eyes trained on the Professor. He agrees to cook with her even more than usual, admiring her curves while she watches the boiling pots. Once, while he was jerking off after classes in his room, he’d even called through the door to Professor Byleth while pumping himself faster and faster. She’d asked if he was okay lately and he’d said yes, of course, while standing right next to his door and stroking himself. He’d been so horny that he hadn’t cared if she’d heard him by that point. A wicked part of him hoped sincerely that she did.

One night, when frustrated by his inability to sleep after repeatedly jerking off, Ashe finds the courage to sneak over to the professor’s room.

It’s almost too easy to pick the lock.

Byleth is a quiet sleeper, which doesn’t surprise him at all. Ashe shuts the door behind him and makes his way over to her bedside. Staring down at her peaceful face makes his hands twitch at his sides. She’s beautiful.

Ashe starts with her chest first. He runs an index finger between her breasts, tracing their curvature and slowly circling into a half-hard nipple. Byleth stays fast asleep, blissfully unaware of what he’s doing. Ashe scratches light fingernails over the center of her nipple, coaxing it to full stiffness underneath her night gown. The thin fabric tents easily.

He rolls her nipple between his fingertips slowly, watching her face for any signs of waking.

He starts on the other breast when nothing happens. Pinching both nipples between his forefingers and thumbs, Ashe lifts her breasts up and lets them drop down again. He does this several times, pulling as far as they can go, and watching hungrily as her massive breasts wobble and push together after he’s touched them.

Ashe hooks a finger under her night gown next and gently pulls it up. It’s a short, flimsy thing, soft to the touch, and it peels off Byleth with minimal resistance. It’s clearly the kind of thing one would wear in the summer. Like the professor’s other outfits, this too leaves little to the imagination.

Ashe lets out a soft gasp when he’s exposed her breasts to the cool night air. He glances down at her pussy too, cock hardening at the sight of her pink folds. He’s read countless tales of torrid nights between heroes and their damsels; he knows vaguely what her most sensitive parts are.

Pinching one nipple with one hand, Ashe moves the other down to Byleth’s mound. He uses a ring finger to gently rub the hood of her clit. Byleth makes a soft sound in her sleep and spreads her legs a little.

Ashe squeezes her nipple and slowly massages her breast with one hand. With the other, he traces tiny circles into the hood of her clit.

Before long, Byleth’s legs are spreading further apart and a tiny trickle of her juices spills down to her inner thighs. Ashe gathers some of them onto his fingertip and rubs the pad of his finger directly onto her swollen clit. Byleth actually whimpers at this, head tossing to the other side as Ashe strokes her most sensitive area.

He’s far past the point of no return when he finally takes her nipple into his mouth. It tastes faintly sweet as he swipes his tongue around her nipple and sucks noisily. Byleth’s hips spasm repeatedly as Ashe speeds up his wet rubbing, focusing all of his attention on her clit.

He keeps at it until Byleth’s legs clench together and her chest heaves with an orgasm, eyelids fluttering and breasts shaking as she comes, legs spreading even farther apart as she gyrates into his merciless fingers.

When it’s over, Byleth slumps back down, still oblivious to what’s happened.

Ashe removes his hand from her clit so that he can stroke himself. He takes his painfully hard erection in one hand and strokes himself firmly while he sucks on Byleth’s nipple.

He’s so close to coming himself, but like before, his hand isn’t enough anymore. Ashe grits his teeth and slows his pace down.

Then it occurs to him: he can have the professor do it. She can help.

Ashe crawls onto the bed nervously and lowers his hips over the professor’s face. Even just stroking himself so close to her feels amazing. But when he’s pumping even faster and bumping the head of his cock against Byleth’s warm lips, it’s all Ashe can do to hold back.

When Byleth sucks on his tip while still fast asleep, Ashe loses all control and plunges deep into her mouth. His eyes roll back in his head at the intensity of the pleasure, Professor Byleth’s throat tight and warm around him.

He fucks her mouth slowly and carefully, mindful of the creaking bed and his own limits. Nothing has ever felt as good as this. He hits the back of her throat and stifles a moan at the feeling.

Ashe claps one hand over his mouth to keep from making noise, but he doesn’t have to try hard; Byleth still isn’t awake. He thrusts a little faster and deeper, balls bumping against her chin, and comes close to losing himself in the sensations. Ashe can’t stop his legs from shaking any more than he can stop thrusting into Byleth’s warm mouth. Each time he rubs against the back of her throat, sparks fly behind his eyelids, and he bucks down deeper into her mouth to chase the feeling.

After what feels like hours, Ashe’s frenzied thrusting hits a peak, and he fucks Byleth’s mouth as fast as he dares, panting hard into his palm. He comes hard, harder than ever before, semen shooting down her throat and dribbling out of her mouth when Ashe pulls out.

He leaves her with his seed on her face, but takes care to pull her nightgown back down.

-

The following day is a rest day for everyone, and Byleth is nowhere to be seen.

Ashe feels lighter today. He trains with more vigor than usual, making even Felix sit up and take notice. His arrows hit their marks, and his sword practice results in two wins and a draw against a disgruntled Ingrid.

“Anyone seen the Professor today?” asks Sylvain, parrying Felix’s strike.

“Quit the chit chat,” snaps Felix, lunging again. His training sword nicks Sylvain’s ribs.

“Ouch! Watch it, Felix—”

“Then pay attention!”

“I’m just curious about the Professor, that’s all!”

“I haven’t seen her today,” says Ingrid. “But I did overhear Captain Jeralt say something about a cold.”

“She’s sick?” asks Sylvain, sidestepping Felix again and joining Ashe and Ingrid over by the equipment storage.

Ingrid wipes the blunt end of her lance with an old rag and shrugs. “No clue. I just assumed that that’s what Captain Jeralt was talking about.”

“Huh. Can the Professor even get sick?” asks Sylvain.

“What kind of question is that? Of course she can.”

“She’s been working too much. The Boar prince is running her ragged with all those extra training missions,” interjects Felix.

“Yeah, but she’s never shown any weakness before, so I kind of just assumed she was inhuman.”

“I hope she’s all right,” says Ashe, biting his lip. The guilt feels like a heavy stone in his gut. He wasn’t the reason for her illness, was he?


	2. Chapter 2

Byleth doesn’t expect the knock at half past midnight.

Her fingers are already curling around a dagger when a familiar voice says, “Professor? Are you awake?”

Ashe stands outside waiting for her.

“Oh, thank goodness,” says Ashe. He smiles, but it’s more of a nervous spasm than anything. He’s entirely too agitated to be knocking on a professor’s door well past midnight.

“Ashe,” she says, scanning the quiet dark behind him. “Is something wrong?”

“N-no, not at all. I just wanted to speak with you.”

Byleth folds her arms across her chest. It must be urgent if he’s here now. They have class early tomorrow; he could have waited until then. It’s not like Ashe is a stranger to asking questions before or after class, either.

Byleth pokes her head out again to scan for patrolling soldiers. Finding none, she steps briskly back inside and motions for Ashe to follow.

“Thank you so much, Professor.”

“Have a seat, please,” she says, tugging out her desk chair. Ashe sinks down onto it as she busies herself with making a pot of tea. She’d been in the middle of brewing some leaves anyway, so it’s easy to just double the amount. She feels Ashe’s eyes on her as she works.

Steaming mint tea in hand, Ashe leans back in the chair and stares intensely into his cup. Byleth takes a seat on her bed. Raising her own cup to her lips, she watches him surreptitiously, noting the bags under his eyes and his pale, chapped lips. He’s been gnawing at them again. Her mind drifts to the tiny pot of wax she keeps in her drawer. Maybe sixteen-year-old boys didn’t know about smoothing on beeswax during the dry winter months. Her father certainly hadn’t. Byleth had learned it from one of the barmaids in Remire. She still has the same floral-printed container.

Lord Lonato had been a widower, if she remembers correctly. Maybe Ashe never had a mother figure around to fuss over him, to smooth balm over his cracked skin. She’s already standing to offer it to him when he clears his throat and says:

“Thank you for this, Professor. Really. I—I’m so glad you’re our teacher. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Byleth sinks back down onto her bed.

Ashe stares determinedly down into his lap and chews his bottom lip in thought, working out a question in his head. It’s a tic he shows in class, too. His eyes narrow and his nose scrunches up whenever he’s thinking through a complex formation or new style of tactics. He’s similar to Annette in this way—the two of them let their thoughts play across their faces so easily.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” asks Byleth softly.

Ashe’s head shoots up. “N-no, of course not! I’m fine,” he says. “That’s... not what this is about.”

When he finally looks at her, there’s something dark in his eyes, something private—a man’s desire for deeds behind closed doors. This is the look he gets whenever he downs a pegasus knight that’s strayed too far from the others. It nearly puts Felix’s bloodlust to shame.

Byleth feels her pulse quicken. Ashe never looks at her like this. At least, not that she’s noticed.

“Ashe,” she says.

Ashe drops his gaze.

“I, um,” he says, swallowing. “I have a favor to ask.”

“A favor,” she repeats.

Ashe nods and closes his eyes. His fingers whiten around his cup.

“I’d..." he stops, torn, before settling on: "I'd like to have tea with you.”

Byleth stares pointedly at their cups.

“I-I mean, in here. In your room. More often.”

“Well,” says Byleth, smiling wryly, “we’re here now.”

“Yes, but—” He locks eyes with hers, more determined than she’s ever seen him.

“...but what, Ashe?”

“Professor, do I really...” he trails off, gaze dropping to her mouth. He seems to forget himself for a moment, eyes turning glassy and distant. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

A shiver travels down her spine. Byleth feels the goosebumps dot her arms beneath her nightclothes.

She abruptly stands up. Ashe startles, nearly spilling tea down his front.

“I think you should go,” she says. “We can discuss this another time. After class, in fact.”

Ashe stares at her. His shoulders sag a little.

“I’ve upset you,” he says, looking stricken. His skin is so white underneath the spray of freckles. He practically glows whenever he blushes. She’d been worried at first when he’d turned red during their trips to the market, or over tea. Maybe it would be better to ease off, keep the mint leaves in their tin, stop checking on him so often. The monastery is certainly large enough for the two of them. They never have to cross paths.

But then she’d noticed him blushing with others—practically everyone, it seemed, especially the girls, and she’d relaxed a bit. It’s just—Ashe. It’s his personality. Plucky and sweet, the sincere and diligent orphan boy from Faerghus. The least likely to ever cause any type of trouble.

“I’m not upset,” says Byleth. “But you shouldn’t be here right now. It’s... not appropriate.”

Ashe lowers his head. He stays where he is, even when she opens the door and stands by it expectantly.

Something washes over him. He loses the flush and air of nervousness, back straightening and face blank.

He sets his cup back in its saucer and brushes past her, not looking back.

“I’ll see you in class tomorrow,” says Byleth, ignoring the twinge of guilt when he doesn’t look back at her. “Good night, Ashe.”

“Good night, Professor.” He speaks so softly that she barely hears it.

  
  


-

  
  


The following week passes by in a blur of certification exams and White Heron Cup hijinks.

Felix is less than pleased to be picked as their class representative. He demands that Byleth practice with him several times before the competition, but it’s immediately clear that he knows more than she does. His movements are controlled and fluid, softer than his battlefield grace. They suggest a childhood spent in dance lessons. He picks up the routine faster than either Dorothea or Lorenz, too.

Today they’re at it in front of the sauna, Felix moving through the motions with ease.

“I’m surprised you’re taking this seriously,” says Byleth.

“I don’t want to embarrass myself. That’s all.”

“You won’t,” says Byleth. “You’re good at this.” It’s why she’d picked him.

Felix averts his eyes. He does this every time she pays him a compliment. She starts gathering her things, folding her coat over her arm and collecting the practice swords they'd brought over just in case. Maybe she’ll stop by the greenhouse to check on her crops.

Felix follows her down the flight of stairs. She glances back at him when she doesn’t hear his footsteps fade into the distance. Normally this is where they part ways—Felix to the training ground, and Byleth to practically everywhere else.

“Did you need something else?” she asks.

They’re standing a stone’s throw away from her room. Not for the first time, she thinks longingly of submitting a request for office space. Someone thought it would be a good idea to have her sleep in the same building as her male students. It’s like they’re setting her up for trouble. Her mind drifts to the encounter with Ashe yesterday, stomach tightening with guilt.

“I saw you last night,” says Felix.

Byleth freezes. Felix isn’t joking around; he watches her carefully.

“I don’t know what you saw,” she says tightly. “But nothing happened.”

She stands her ground, back stiff and jaw locked. Now more than ever she wishes she were taller, older, more seasoned as a professor. Manuela and Hanneman could send a student scurrying with just the right look. She has no such luck.

Felix turns and stalks off in the direction of her room. Alarmed, Byleth hurries after him.

“Felix, what are you—“

He wrenches open her door and heads inside, Byleth rushing in after him.

“Felix!” she snaps, grabbing him by the shoulder and spinning him to face her. “You can’t just barge in here!”

Felix’s eyes narrow at her, dark and accusatory. She’s only ever seen him like this when they’ve sparred.

“I never thought you were qualified for your position, you know. None of us did. Not even the boar.”

Byleth's heart drops.

“But I never thought you’d sink low enough to bed one of your students,” he hisses, casting a dismissive look at her bed.

“I did not—“

“Save it,” interrupts Felix. “I know what Ashe thinks of you. He couldn’t be more obvious. Pathetic.”

Byleth’s face feels numb with rage. She speaks through her teeth, eyes never leaving Felix’s face.

“Get out,” she says. “ _Now_.”

Felix holds her gaze imperiously, not moving an inch. She’s ready to shove him out with everything she has, their size difference be damned, when he makes a point of dragging his eyes up and down her body. His eyelids droop, face clouding over with something other than anger.

He moves past her and she sighs in relief, staggering over to her bed. But she doesn’t hear him leave.

He closes the door instead and locks it.

Byleth swallows. “Felix,” she says firmly. “I told you to leave.”

Felix stays where he is. Back facing her, she can’t read him at all, only trace the hard line of his shoulders warily. She grips the hilt of her training sword on instinct, already calculating the distance between them and the quickest way to grab the dagger she hides on her nightstand. She won't use the Sword of the Creator on a student, no matter the degree of subordination, but Felix may just be the one to break that rule for her.

Felix relaxes his shoulders. He turns to face her again.

“I’ll leave,” he says, moving closer. “But only if you agree to something.”

“There's nothing to be negotiated,” snaps Byleth.

He steps close enough to stare directly down into her face, expression calm, thoughtful. An unsettling shift from the anger and disgust he’d shown earlier.

“Let me do the same.”

“What?”

Felix lowers his eyes to her chest piece. He raises a hand to trickle fingertips through the silken threads, tugging lightly.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” says Felix, trailing fingers down to her waist. He grazes his knuckles against her bare skin, making her shiver.

" _What_ ," she repeats.

His eyes narrow. “Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I mean.”

When he grasps her chin firmly and lowers his mouth to hers, she doesn’t expect it, doesn’t expect the tender way he slides fingers into her hair and bites at her bottom lip.

She places both hands flat against his chest and starts to shove, but he draws her closer and kisses her deeply, pressing her body flush against his.

The heat in her belly moves south, warming her all the way through. She trembles, ashamed of the way her body responds to Felix’s warmth, his roughness.

Felix hums into their kiss, fingers hooking on the edges of her chest piece. He pulls it off easily enough and tosses it aside, tugging her down onto her bed after him.

Her bra comes off next. Felix stops kissing her momentarily to get an eyeful of her breasts. He turns bright red as he fondles them, thumbs brushing over her nipples and making her gasp. It’s been months since she last laid with anyone. She’s sensitive and more worked up than she has any business being. She’d lost her virginity years ago to a mercenary old enough to be her father. After that, she found ways to sneak out whenever their company stayed in town for a few nights.

Felix seems to know what he’s doing, too. Maybe it’s Ingrid, Byleth thinks, eyes falling shut as he bends down to take a nipple in his mouth. He sucks gently, with none of the roughness from earlier, and she’s forced to bite down on a moan. He makes quick work of her smallclothes as he does this. She’s fully naked and he’s still completely dressed when he parts her legs and slips his fingers between them. He strokes her folds gently, smirking against her skin when he feels how wet she is.

“I knew it,” he murmurs, slicking up his fingers with her juices. She shivers, eyes squeezing shut as he traces her folds, circling her clit with the lightest of touches.

Byleth looks away, horrified.

Felix captures her mouth with a growl. He kisses her hungrily, messily, and reaches down with his other hand to pull back the hood of her clit while stroking a wet finger over the sensitive nub underneath. She sighs shakily and tilts her head back as he kisses down her neck.

Byleth spreads her legs apart further, giving Felix better access. She squeezes handfuls of her sheets as Felix continues stroking her swollen clit. Distantly, Byleth realizes how lewd she must look, naked and panting in bed, her legs splayed wide open for her fully clothed student. She can’t help but moan softly and gyrate her hips, eager for more, as Felix continues to rub her clit.

“So wet,” he sighs, lashes fluttering as he stares her down. Byleth lets out a shaky breath, biting back the louder moans she wants to let out. Chances are that the building is empty at this time of day, but there’s no way of confirming who’s around.

“How often do you do this?” Felix asks, voice sly. He stops stroking for a moment and she makes a vague sound of protest. “Do you let Ashe fuck you every other night? Or,” he continues, flicking her wet nub, “do you have us all in rotation?”

“N-no, I would never—“

A finger slips inside her. “Tell me, Professor,” says Felix conversationally. “Who’s your favorite? Don’t hold back. You can be honest.”

Byleth furrows her brow and moans in frustration and pleasure as Felix dips another finger inside her and resumes stroking with his other hand. Her clit is so wet and swollen by now that she’s practically in tears, desperate to come and get this over with. The sheets beneath her are soaked through. She’s going to have to wash them again this week, which is infuriating.

“I don’t fuck my students,” she hisses.

Felix grins. “Oh?” He adds a third finger, rubbing firmer circles now against her clit. Her hips spasm and quake, lifting high to chase more of Felix’s addictive touch. She’s starting to sweat now, cheeks flushed, eyes rolling back as the waves of pleasure crash through her. “Then what am I, Professor?”

“Felix,” she gasps in warning.

“You don’t expect me to believe you, do you?”

“I’m being— ah— honest—“

“Is that why you spend extra time with the boar prince at the sauna? Or before your weekly lectures? Or why,” Felix adds, not relenting as his fingers drive her absolutely wild, hips trembling and gyrating up into his touch, “Ashe comes to your room at night?”

Byleth’s tongue lolls out of her mouth, her eyes rolling back in her head and her moans desperate now, uncaring of whether or not she’s heard, if only to better feel Felix’s slick fingers on her hyper-sensitive clit.

“Felix, please—“

“Come for me,” growls Felix, and she does with a broken cry. Her entire body shudders uncontrollably, toes curling and nails clawing at Felix’s biceps. When it’s over, she slumps bonelessly against her pillow.

Felix strokes her lower lips gently, letting her come down from her orgasm. He looks more fired up than she’s ever seen him.

“My turn,” he says. Then he’s undoing his breeches and kneeling over her, erect cock bobbing in front of her face. A small bead of precome leaks from the tip. He’s big; bigger than most men she’s had.

She stares up at him, biting her lip. He nudges the head of his cock against the seam of her lips, eyelids fluttering when they part slightly.

“Open up,” he orders.

He pushes into her mouth before she can comply, shocking her into relaxing her jaw. She swallows awkwardly, trying to adjust to the intrusion, and it makes Felix moan and curl fingers tightly into her hair.

He thrusts into her mouth gently at first, taking complete control of her head, but soon enough he’s freely fucking her face, slamming his cock far down her throat. He moans quietly as he thrusts, gasping whenever she moves her tongue weakly. Her jaw aches—he’s too rough, too big for her—but still feels herself grow wet with each frenzied snap of his hips.

Felix comes with a pleased grunt, hot come spurting down her throat. She sucks him dry, breathing heavily through her nose, lips wet and swollen as he empties himself into her. When he’s done, he pulls back with a sigh, completely soft.

He doesn’t stick around after that. He cleans himself up with her discarded shirt and dresses quickly.

He says nothing as he leaves. Just like Ashe, he doesn’t look back at her.

-

He comes back nearly every day after that first time.

Felix fucks her against her desk, against the door, on the floor and on the bed. He fucks her naked and clothed, reduces her to a babbling mess covered with his semen and her own juices. He jacks off by her face and spurts come all over her cheeks and nose and mouth.

He’s insatiable after a cleanup battle. Something about bloodshed gets him worked up.

But he’s the same during class, disengaged as ever. No one else seems to catch on to them. Dedue sleeps soundly every night, greeting her like usual in the mornings. Sylvain seems to watch her suspiciously at times, but always looks away whenever she tries to catch him. Dimitri questions her sleeping habits more than once, brow knitted in concern, but pushes no further when she tells him she’s fine.

Ashe is the only one that worries her. He’s been withdrawn and quiet ever since his late-night call the other night. He keeps his head down in class and never approaches her desk with questions anymore. He smiles with his classmates, though, and waves off their concern.

“I’m just tired, that’s all,” she overhears him telling Mercedes, who doesn’t look convinced. “Nothing to worry about.”

-

Felix wins the White Heron Cup with ease. They celebrate, he grouses about his new outfit, and then they’re to have a ball the following evening.

There’s a knock on Byleth’s door while she’s getting ready.

She lets her hair fall in a loose curtain around her shoulders. She’d been trying in vain to pin it up for the past hour. It looks fine down, but she’d at least wanted to try something different for tonight. Perhaps she should have taken up Manuela on her offer to help after all.

She’s surprised to find Ashe, and not Felix, standing outside her door.

“Ashe,” she says, eyes widening. “Why are you... what is it?”

“May I come in?” asks Ashe, not meeting her eyes.

Byleth hesitates. It’s not a good idea. But she can’t exactly turn him away right now, not without clearing the air between them first.

She reluctantly lets him inside. He trails after her quietly and takes the same seat as before.

“I’ve brought something for you.” He pulls out a sachet of leaves. Lavender, from the looks of it.

Byleth accepts them gratefully. “You shouldn’t have,” she says, already reaching for the teapot.

“I know they’re your favorite, and you’re always preparing mine, so.” Ashe rubs his neck, blushing. Byleth hides a smile.

“I’ll make some for us.”

Byleth prepares two cups in record time. She hands one to Ashe before taking a seat on her bed, mirroring the last time he’d visited.

They sip their tea at the same time, wary of each other’s presence. Byleth speaks first.

“I’ve been worried about you, Ashe.”

“I know,” he says, bowing his head. “I’m sorry, Professor.”

“You haven’t been yourself in class lately. I don’t think I’m the only one who’s noticed.”

Ashe smiles wryly. “No, you’re definitely not.”

“This is... about the other night, isn’t it?” she asks, frowning. She sways a little, feeling light-headed and pleasantly warm. The warmth spreads from her face down to her chest, and continues creeping south.

Byleth tugs on her collar, suddenly hot. Ashe watches her closely.

“Yes, it is,” he says.

She presses her thighs together, squirming. She can feel how wet her smallclothes are, her juices soaking through the fabric and reaching her legs. Her core throbs as she nervously takes another sip of her tea. Her upper lip is sweating now, and just the sight of Ashe is making her hotter.

“Professor?” Ashe asks, brows knitting together. “Are you alright?”

“I feel... warm,” she admits. She drains the last dregs of her lukewarm tea and sets the cup on the ground, fanning herself. “I think I just need a second.”

Ashe approaches her cautiously. She keeps an eye on him as her fingers slip between her thighs, the better to furtively rub against her swollen clit.

She hears Ashe suck in a breath as she starts to stroke herself through her dress, leaning back against her pillows like she would in private, blissfully shutting out the rest of the world.

Soon she’s hiking up her dress so that she can access her wet folds directly, yanking aside her panties and stroking her swollen clit with a moan.

She very nearly forgets Ashe until she feels a pair of cool fingers on her dripping sex, exploring her tentatively. She moans at the contact, pulling Ashe down on top of her, desperate for more of his touch.

“P-Professor,” gasps Ashe in disbelief. He strokes her hardened nub with shaking fingers.

Ashe swallows visibly as she writhes under his touch, hips bucking wildly as he fingers her. Unlike Felix, his strokes are less sure, gentler and more clumsy, but Byleth is too far gone to care. His fingers feel like sheer heaven against her wet clit, drawing circles over it repeatedly and setting off sparks behind her eyelids.

“Ashe, oh goddess, that feels amazing,” she whines, drawing his mouth closer for a sloppy kiss. He shivers as she licks into his mouth, moaning as his hardness pokes against her naked thigh.

She spreads her legs wide open for him, brazenly displaying her pink bud glistening beneath its hood, and moans when he strokes her firmly. He tugs up the rest of her dress and brassiere so that her large breasts bounce free, and immediately lowers his mouth onto one and sucks a hard nipple.

Byleth tries not to scream as Ashe quickly draws an intense, shuddering orgasm out of her and keeps going, massaging her overstimulated clit so that her eyes roll back in her head and she moans openly, no longer capable of holding back.

She comes a second time as he sucks her clit into his warm mouth and plunges cool fingers inside of her. She chants his name, linking her fingers with his.

“So good,” she gasps, coming a third time, completely unraveling.

“You know why I’m doing this, don’t you, Professor?” pants Ashe, finally lining himself up with her cunt, the tip of his hard cock playfully rubbing against her clit. She groans, shuddering, and he takes it as a sign to push inside.

He isn’t as big as Felix, but he’s still thick, and feels amazing against her walls as he pumps away. He lifts her leg over one of his shoulders and fucks her hard, slamming all the way to the hilt, making her bed crack and squeak with each thrust.

“Did you hear me, Professor?”

She can’t even think straight, let alone answer him coherently. Still, she manages to choke out a weak, “Yes,” and Ashe rewards her efforts with deeper, rougher thrusts. She groans happily and lets Ashe suck on her tongue.

“You’re letting someone else do this to you, right?”

Byleth nods weakly. Ashe slows down, rocking against her core at a gentler pace. She whines in frustration.

“Like a complete slut,” Ashe purrs, reaching down to stroke her clit.

“Yes,” gasps Byleth.

“Does he feel this good?” Ashe slams into her and fucks her at a punishing pace, knocking all coherent thought right out of her.

“Ashe,” she cries brokenly.

“This is better, isn’t it?”

Byleth whimpers, coming again, a dry orgasm that makes her walls clench tightly around him. She’s absolutely wrecked by now, legs turned to jelly and private parts aching from the constant pleasure. There’s no chance she’ll be able to wobble out onto the dance floor tonight. The thought of shoving her feet into heels has her wincing already.

Ashe comes soon after she does for the umpteenth time, balls slapping against her as he rams deep inside. He slumps down when finished and stays inside her. Nose buried in his neck as he rests on top of her, Byleth smells the cologne he’s picked out for tonight. It intermingles with his sweat and the smell of sex, musky and dark.

The frenzied heat is finally leaching away, leaving her senses alert and cold. She curls her fingers around Ashe’s bicep as he pants against her forehead, grazing his lips over her in a soft kiss.

“Ashe,” she says.

“Yes?”

“You... put something in my drink.”

Ashe stills. She can feel his pulse speed up against her skin.

He pulls back so she can see his face. He looks torn between guilt and defiance, eyes shining. His cock is still buried inside her as he stares into her eyes.

“I did,” he confesses.

“That’s...” Illegal. Disgusting. Wrong.

His cock twitches inside her, making her jump. She’s still so sensitive. Whatever substance Ashe had added to her tea is still in her system. She grits her teeth, ignoring the pleasurable tremors with Ashe still sheathed inside her. She won’t let her mind fog over to lust again.

“I didn’t think it would affect you this strongly,” says Ashe. “I... I wasn’t thinking straight when I came here.”

Byleth holds back a sigh. “Ashe, can you pull out?”

Ashe blushes a dark red. “O-oh, yes, I’m so sorry—“

He slides out of her and leaves a slick trail of come and her juices behind. Byleth bites her tongue to keep from moaning. It feels so empty and cold without him inside her.

Ashe scoots back on the bed and turns away from her, bizarrely nervous after they’d fucked like animals only minutes before.

“What did you think it would do?”

Ashe says nothing, keeping his head bowed.

Byleth tries again. “What was upsetting you?”

“Felix,” he snaps. Byleth almost recoils at the bitterness in his voice. Ashe has never spoken to her like this before.

Byleth lies utterly still, feeling the exhaustion sink into her bones. She’d somehow ended up in the middle of a teenage love triangle right before the academy ball. Pathetic. She’s never been one for upholding rules before, let alone standing in as a role model for those younger than her, but at least she’s never gone to prison.

Sothis, who’s been slumbering for days after complaining about feeling sluggish, stirs feebly. She mutters something indistinct before returning to her slumber. Not helpful at all, Byleth wryly thinks.

She’s never been in this situation before, but working as a mercenary for so long has taught her to think on her feet.

“Have you told anyone about this?”

Ashe glances at her, alarmed. “No! Of course not.”

“Good.” She reaches for her discarded dress, grimacing at the rumpled state of it. There’s no way she can wear it for tonight. “Can I trust that you won’t tell anyone?”

“Yes, Professor. I swear I won’t tell a soul.”

“I’ll handle the situation with Felix,” she says, getting to her feet with a wince, mindful of the ache between her legs. Ashe stares after her apologetically.

“Does this mean you... you’re not angry with me?”

Byleth shrugs, digging through her drawers for her spare black dress. “I don’t want either of us to get in trouble,” she says, noticing Ashe nod emphatically out of the corner of her eye.

“Neither do I, Professor.”

“But that means that this won’t happen again,” she says sternly, turning away from him to pull her new dress over herself.

“It won’t?”

“It won’t,” repeats Byleth, combing fingers through her hair. The new dress is actually an old one, something she’d picked up for a date with her wealthy employer's son years ago. She’d been barely older than Ashe back then. Her grasp of makeup and flirting had left much to be desired, but her date had been smitten with her anyway.

It still fits. Ashe blushes when she faces him again.

“You should go now,” she says mildly, ignoring the ache in her core as she steps into a fresh pair of undergarments.

Ashe pulls on his clothes in silence, looking small and lost as he looks away from her. He’s too young and guileless to be slipping aphrodisiacs into older women’s drinks. Someone else must have tipped him off, given him a pep talk that could only lead him astray.

She really should be furious with him. But then, she should be furious with Felix, too. And with herself for landing in this situation at all.

“I’ll see you later, Ashe,” she says, nodding towards the door. He hesitates, looking as if he were about to speak. But then he changes his mind and, with one last bow, walks out into the night.


End file.
